


Splish Splash

by FullOnLarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Frottage, Intercrural Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Not really though, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sort Of, Weed mention, as in marijuana, but I thought I'd tag jic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-30 22:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12118821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: Harry's looking to get off with the boring, but willing, guy he met the week before. He sends him a selfie in the hopes that he'll take the hint and they can hook-up again, but he accidentally sends it to someone else.I honestly don't know who the wrong number belongs to. You'll have to read to find out!





	Splish Splash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickedWeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/gifts).



> Hello, QuickedWeen! I wrote this as a pinch hit for your prompt:
> 
> I sent a selfie of myself in the tub to the wrong number and you responded back with another selfie. Holy shit you’re really attractive!
> 
> Sorry it's so short, but hopefully you'll like it!
> 
> Thanks to my awesome beta, [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com)! ❤
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

Harry finally got laid and ended his months-long dry streak a few nights ago. He met Logan at the bar and after deciding to go home with him, he was able to scratch that itch, so to speak. He blushes when he thinks about it; he was so fucked up that night. Weed and wine, what a killer combination. He almost wasn’t able to get hard, but he finally managed and, while it had been a bit of a fumbling mess, it was good in the end. They didn’t speak much that night or the following morning and Harry isn’t sure he wants to see him again, at least, not for anything other than a fuck. From what he can remember, Logan was sort of dull. But he was willing, and Harry was horny. 

Niall’s gone for the night, working the closing shift at the bar, and Harry stayed home because he had to start reading the assigned text for the Literature class he’s starting on Monday. He spent most of the evening going over it and when his eyes get too tired to continue and he keeps reading the same sentence over and over again, he closes the book and sets it aside. He still has Saturday and Sunday to finish the reading, and he’s almost halfway through, so he feels like he can call it a night. At least for school related activities. 

He leans back against the couch and slides his hand under his t-shirt, scratching at his lower belly. They didn’t say anything about getting together this weekend, but they exchanged numbers, so maybe Logan would be up for another go. Harry reaches down and palms himself through his sweatpants. It’s a bit early still for a booty call, so he cleans up the clutter from the couch and coffee table, eats a quick sandwich and decides to take a bath. After all, if he’s going to get laid, he should probably wash up a bit. 

When the tub is full of water, he strips off his clothes, and rummages through his basket of bath bombs, looking for the soft pink one with the flower petals hidden inside. As he sinks into the hot, fragrant water, he closes his eyes and sighs. Logan seemed up for pretty much anything, so while he washes, he makes a short list of things he’s interested in doing to get off tonight. 

He’s always up for a blow job—giving especially, but receiving too—though sixty-nine is probably a little too intimate for this situation. Hand jobs are good, but that’s what they’d done last weekend and he didn’t want to seem like a one-trick pony. 

Harry snickers and slides down until his head is completely submerged under the floating flower petals, then pushes himself back up. A one-trick pony. Actually, he’d much rather be the horse rider. Not really feeling like that tonight though. Logan’s cute enough, but when he rides someone’s cock, he really likes for them to pinch and twist his nipples hard, and he’s not quite comfortable enough with Logan to ask him for that. 

His train of thought and his loose hand fisted around his dick have him almost completely hard already. Maybe Logan would be up for some phone sex. Harry strokes himself with his right hand, dries his left hand on the towel hanging beside the tub, and fumbles for his phone that’s sitting on top of the toilet lid. The pink water and the orange and purple flower petals make a lovely backdrop, so he opens the camera on his phone, arranges himself so that his tattoos are visible, gives the camera a little smirk, and takes what he thinks is a fairly artistic selfie. 

Fuck. He really hopes Logan is into phone sex or is conveniently close by and can drive over in a few minutes. Maybe there’s something in the bath bomb, because Harry is so hard and yet, the rest of his body is so relaxed. He just wants to get off. After a slow squeeze to his balls and a couple of teasing twists to the head of his dick, Harry selects the photo, taps the message icon, adds a few words hinting that he might like some help drying off after his bath, and types in the first few letters of Logan’s name. When his name pops up, he quickly selects it, and sends the picture before he can think too much about it. Maybe he should’ve sent a dick pic instead. 

Hopefully Logan won’t think it’s too strange to receive a photo of Harry in the bath. He sets his phone back on the toilet lid and leans back, running his hands up and down his thighs in anticipation. Please let him respond quickly before Harry shoots off unassisted in his fancy bathwater. 

When about ten minutes go by without a return text or call, and he gets tired of waiting, Harry sighs and decides to just jerk off. He stands up and dries quickly, then heads for his bedroom. Maybe he’ll make a special night of it—light some candles, play some music, and tease himself until he’s sweaty and aching, before finally letting himself come. It would be nice if one day he could do all of that with another person. Clearly that person is not Logan. Oh well. 

With the music on and the candles lit, Harry arranges himself on his bed, and as he lays back onto his pillows, his phone dings. He grabs for it so fast that he knocks it to the floor and has to lean over and fish underneath the bed to find it. There’s a text, but it’s not from Logan. It’s from Louis T., one of the guys from the phone list his new Literature professor sent out last week. Maybe he has a question about the reading and he picked Harry to ask since their names were next to each other on the list. For some reason, maybe because he wants to drag out this masturbation session a little longer, he decides to answer Louis’ text before getting down to business. He opens his phone to read the message and almost dies then and there.

Louis T.: _Hello, gorgeous. I’d gladly help dry you off, but I don’t think you meant to send that to me._

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Fuck.

Harry stares at the screen of his phone, at the short message from Louis, and at the picture of himself in the fucking bathtub that he’d accidentally sent to him instead of Logan. At least it wasn't a dick pic. His hands are shaking from embarrassment and he can feel his face and chest getting hot and he knows they’re probably beet red. His dick doesn’t seem to mind though. It’s just as hard as it was, if not harder. Harry locks his phone, lays back against the pillow and stares down at himself, watching his erection twitch with every beat of his heart. Wow. 

He should apologize. And then he should say fuck it to romancing himself and see if he can come in under thirty seconds instead. While he’s unlocking his phone, there’s another ding. Another message. 

Louis T.: _I think you sent that to me accidentally, which kind of sucks because you really are gorgeous. Fair’s fair though, so here you go…_

As Harry is reading the text, the three little dots are moving, and suddenly there’s a picture of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Oh god. Messy hair and blue eyes with little crinkles in the corners, a brilliant smile, and a scruffy jaw. Harry whines and rolls over to bury his face in a pillow. Not only has he embarrassed himself in front of a classmate, he’s embarrassed himself in front of a super hot classmate. And there’s an entire semester of school to look forward to. Great. 

And he’s still hard. Harry groans and ruts against the bed. Fuck. He still needs to apologize, but it can wait a few minutes. It’ll probably only take that long to come if he rolls over and jerks off fast. He grinds his hips down into the mattress and fuck. The apology can wait. He can do this. Get himself off without using his hands. Right? That’s a thing. It wasn’t on his earlier list, but he wasn’t planning to be alone tonight either. 

Harry moans shamelessly and fucks against the mattress, turning himself on with his noises, and mentally forcing himself to keep his hands away from his dick. He pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he can look down and watch himself humping the bed and he hears something. 

A distant voice calls out, “Hello?” 

Harry holds his breath and stills completely, then slowly turns his head to see his phone, lying face down on the bed beside him. He flips it over and drops down the mattress. Somehow he managed to call Louis T. from his literature class. What the fuck is this day. 

At least he can still drop the class. 

Harry reaches for the phone to end the call when he hears Louis call out again, “Harry? Fuck!” Harry picks up the phone carefully and puts it on speakerphone, listening to Louis muttering to himself. “...hot. Oh, I should hang up. But maybe he called on purpose… Maybe he wants me to listen to him get off… Is this weird? I don’t know, Louis, you’re the one talking to yourself instead of listening to your classmate get himself off… Shut up!” 

“Louis?”

“Shit!”

Harry snorts. “Um… I don’t know how I called you, it was accidental, but, umm…”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I—”

“No, no, no. I… Well, I’m… not sorry?” Harry throws caution to the wind and circles his hips, letting a whine fall from his lips. 

“Holy shit. Really? Okay,” Louis rushes out, but then more quietly he mutters, “Okay. Fuck. I can do this.”

“Yes,” Harry hisses and starts to ride the mattress again.

“Wait, Harry. Stop.” Louis’ voice is firm and commanding and Harry stills instantly.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck. I just… Did you really stop because I told you to?”

“Yes. Fuck.” Harry bites his lip against a moan, but it slips out anyway and is echoed back by Louis.

“That’s really hot. So you, um… You like being told what to do?”

“Yes.” Harry immediately responds and his cheeks start to heat up.

Louis hums, then clears his throat before asking, “What else do you like?”

Harry sucks in a breath. Might as well. “Like being held down. Always wanted to be tied up. Shit.” He groans. He’s so hard and the little bit of pressure from his body weight and the mattress is just making it worse. “Like having my nipples played with. Um… Like having them pinched and pulled hard.”

Louis’ breath hitches. “That’s… Um, that’s really hot. You want to do that to yourself right now?”

“No.” Harry whines again. “Want you to.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Fuck.” He knows this is crazy, probably the stupidest thing he’s ever considered doing. “Where are you? Can you—”

“You’re Niall’s roommate, right?”

Harry freezes and searches back. There’s no way he’s mentioned Niall in this conversation. Slowly, he asks, “You know Niall?”

“Yeah, I, um, actually just started at the bar last week. He…” Louis huffs a quiet laugh. “Well, I might as well tell you now. He said he wanted to set us up. Said he thought we’d hit it off. Um… I don’t suppose this counts?”

Harry laughs. He laughs so hard and so loud that he slaps his hand across his mouth to shut himself up. “I think it counts. I guess you're probably not a murderer if my roommate wants to set us up.”

“No, I’m not a murderer, but I understand if you… Like, we could just do this over the phone? Go out on a date tomorrow night, maybe?”

“No—”

“Oh…” Louis sounds so disappointed that Harry can’t help but smile.

“No, Louis. I mean I don’t want to do this over the phone. I, um… Fuck it, right? I can text you my address—”

“I dropped Niall off the other night after work. Um… what’s your apartment number?”

—

Fifteen minutes later, Harry has his sweatpants back on and opens the door to a slightly disheveled Louis who stands in the hall, eyes wide, nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s even better looking in person in an oversized sweatshirt and track pants. 

“Hi.” Harry grins and steps aside to let Louis in. “Come in.”

“Hey,” Louis whispers. “I, um, should say that I’ve never done anything like this. So…”

Harry shakes his head. “Me neither. I mean, I’ve hooked up with people, but this is a whole new experience for me.”

“Yeah, okay. Um…” Louis closes his eyes. “On the phone you said you liked being told what to do. Do you want that?” He opens one eye slightly and watches Harry.

Harry shifts side to side on his feet. Just the thought has his dick interested and a flush rising on his cheeks. “I… I… Not tonight. Um… But maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Harry bites his bottom lip before continuing, “After our date.”

Louis smiles and breathes out, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you…”

Harry shrugs. “Fuck it, right?”

Louis stares at him for a second. “Fuck it.” 

He reaches for Harry’s hips, spins him around, pushes him against the door and kisses him, pressing in close. Harry groans against his lips and tries to catch up, but Louis’ hands are slipping underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and he feels too far gone already. From the bath to the selfie to his interrupted masturbation session to his accidental phone call, it’s too much. Harry slides his hands around Louis’ waist and down to his ass which, now that he feels it, he needs to see it, because it feels amazing. 

Harry pulls back, panting and knocking his head against the door. “Bedroom?”

Louis squeezes his hips and nods. Harry reluctantly lets go of Louis’ ass and grabs his hand to pull him down the hall. Once they’re behind the closed door of his bedroom, he drops his sweatpants to the floor, kicks them out of the way, and falls backwards onto the bed.

“Fuck.” Louis groans and cups himself through his track pants. He yanks his sweatshirt off, taking his t-shirt with it, kicks his shoes off, pulls off his socks, and pushes his pants down. “You’re really hot.”

Harry lays in the middle of the bed, watching him. He waits impatiently with one hand on his cock and the other circling and pinching his nipples. “You too. Shit. Come on.”

Louis quickly climbs onto the bed, crawling over Harry's legs, and sitting across his hips, one hand pumping his hardening cock, and watching while Harry plays with himself. He looks down at Harry’s erection, then back up to meet his eyes. “Can I?” 

“Please.” Harry stops touching himself and stretches his arms over his head, crossing his wrists and resting them on the pillow. 

Louis’ hands are warm and as soon as he touches Harry, his body jerks towards him. He feels tingly and almost high. It’s probably the strangeness of the situation getting to him, but he’s going to pretend that it’s Louis. Slowly, Louis settles his hands on Harry’s stomach, fanning his fingers out and sliding his hands up. He gently pinches Harry’s nipples and tugs lightly at them and Harry pushes his chest up, silently begging for more. 

Instead, Louis slides one hand back down, trailing his forefinger from the head of Harry’s dick to the base, wrapping his fingers around him, stroking him. At the same time he’s pinching Harry’s nipples until he’s fully hard. Finally, he rubs his thumb over the tip of Harry’s dick, circling the head, and sliding it in all of the precome that’s gathering there and dripping onto Harry’s stomach. “Do you always get this wet?”

Harry bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. His cheeks start to heat up and he can feel the embarrassment rising.

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Louis sits back and slides his thumb over the slit again. “Open your eyes.” 

Harry peeks at him through his lashes, then his eyes fly open wide when Louis pops his thumb into his mouth and sucks it clean. “Fuck.”

Louis starts to jerk him off again, slowly for the first few strokes, then he starts to pump his fist faster and faster. “You didn’t answer me.” He collects the precome on his thumb again and Harry nods so fast that the bed moves. “I take that as a yes.” Louis reaches forward and slides his thumb into Harry’s mouth and Harry sucks hard, swirling his tongue around it, and whining when Louis pulls it free.

“Yes.” Harry nods again. Louis smiles and Harry gets that weird tingly feeling again. But he doesn’t have time to wonder about it because Louis leans forward until they’re pressed chest to chest, and rolls his hips, sliding their cocks together. Harry closes his eyes when Louis comes closer, and parts his lips in expectation. Louis’ tongue slips inside, flicking against his, and Harry's still just trying to keep up. He hasn’t even moved his hands from their place on the pillow above his head.

Louis sucks on his tongue and pushes himself up enough that Harry can see both of their dicks between them. His breath hitches when Louis slowly drags his shaft over the head of Harry’s cock. He dives back down to kiss Harry again, letting his entire body relax on top of him, and slides his hands over Harry’s ribs, up his arms, and gently circles his fingers around Harry’s wrists. Harry nods uncontrollably and lifts his head up to suck Louis’ lower lip into his mouth, and Louis presses forward, biting at Harry’s lips, sliding their tongues together as he lowers his hips and starts to rub their cocks together. The pressure is perfect and Harry tries to match him, tries to rut up against him, but Louis pulls back and shakes his head no, and Harry sucks in a breath and stills. 

Louis rocks his body, pushing Harry’s wrists into the pillow above his head, and moaning into his mouth while their dicks press together. Harry does all that he can, returns his kisses, and moans against his mouth, but tries to remain mostly still. 

He’s close, so fucking close. One of his fantasies is being fulfilled without him even having to ask for it and he can’t handle it. It’s so fucking hot, Louis is so fucking hot, and he’s panting into his mouth, barely able to think. Harry feels his orgasm approaching and he almost doesn't want to come. He tries to hold off, but it's no use. His balls tighten and his cock stiffens and he babbles out, “Can… Can I come?”

Louis’ eyes go wide and he nods frantically, circling his hips and rutting against Harry harder. “Come whenever you want, baby.” He buries his face against Harry’s neck, kissing and biting up to his ear and when he sucks on the spot right beneath it, Harry’s body jerks and he comes, shooting between their bodies, his back arching off the bed while Louis holds his wrists tighter, working him through his orgasm while Harry’s body trembles under him. 

Harry lets out a quiet whine and Louis lets go of his wrists, pushing himself back to sit on Harry’s thighs. “Was that okay? Sorry… I should’ve asked first.”

“Yeah. More than.” He watches Louis through half-closed eyes. He’s still hard and now he’s got Harry’s come on his stomach and it's dripping off his cock and it does something to Harry’s brain to see him like that. He reaches out to wrap his fingers around Louis and jerk him off, but Louis gently grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. Harry shakes his head. “But you haven’t come yet.”

“Yeah, um, can I…” He looks over at Harry’s nightstand and asks, “Do you have lube?”

“Top drawer. There’s condoms too…”

Louis leans over and rummages through the drawer, then sits back up with the lube in his hand. “I don’t…” He squeezes his cock and gives himself a few slow strokes. “I can’t really wait to like, get you ready and stuff, so can I, um, can I fuck your thighs?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, you can. Shit. Um, how do you want me?” Harry’s heart rate, that had just come back to normal, accelerates at the thought of Louis using his thighs, _using him_ , to get off. His own dick gives a feeble twitch, but he dismisses it. After all, they have a date tomorrow. Anything can happen. 

Louis hums to himself for a second, then climbs off of Harry’s legs. “Can you roll onto your stomach?”

Harry flips over as fast as he can, pushing the pillows onto the floor, and resting his head on his folded arms. Quickly, he crosses his ankles and flexes his legs, squeezing his thighs together. 

“Good boy. Look at that.” Louis runs his hand over Harry’s lower back, trails the tips of his fingers down his crack, and between his legs. “You’re so fucking hot. I swear. Luckiest wrong number of my life.”

Harry blushes and buries his head in his arms. He was so wrapped up in everything that he almost forgot what brought them together tonight. Still, whatever it was, fate or an accident, he’s glad for it, so he says so. “I’m really happy I signed up for Literary Modernism this semester.”

Louis giggles. “Me too.” He runs his hands up and down Harry’s thighs, then Harry feels the lube dripping onto his legs, and trickling down between his thighs. Louis climbs on top of him and lays down over him, holding himself up with one arm, pushing his dick between Harry’s thighs with his other hand and letting out a rough groan. “Keep ’em tight for me, baby.”

Harry nods and whispers, “Promise.” 

As Louis starts to work up to a rhythm, he settles on top of Harry, gently holding his shoulders and rubbing his thumbs back and forth. It’s incredibly sweet and soft and Harry relaxes into the mattress and lets his mind wander. Funny how this wasn’t on his list from earlier either, but it’s hot as hell and he wonders why he doesn’t do this all the time. Being held and being used. Legitimately two of his favorite things at once. 

Louis fucks in between his thighs faster and Harry can’t help but moan. It’s turning him on again, he’s starting to get hard from this, and he wants to fuck the mattress, but more than that he wants to be good and still for Louis. At that thought, he tightens his legs together and Louis thrusts between them harder, forcing Harry’s body down, giving him some much needed friction. Louis’ head rests against Harry’s upper back and he can feel Louis’ breath on his skin. His mind drifts in and out, torn between being turned on and being good, wanting to get off and wanting to get Louis off. He shifts his hips slightly and Louis turns his head, placing a kiss between Harry’s shoulder blades and muttering, “Be still for me.”

Harry nods and whines, forcing himself not to move again, flexing his legs, and focusing on the sensation of Louis’ dick rubbing against his inner thighs. Fuck. He’s fully hard and that makes it even more difficult to be still. He’s so caught up in his mind that he doesn’t realize that Louis is coming until he cries out and loses his rhythm and Harry feels Louis’ warm come mixing with the lube, slicking his thighs even more. 

Louis’ breath is hot on his back and he lays there panting. “Shit. That was incredible.” He kisses Harry’s shoulder blade and pushes himself up and rolls to the side. “You okay?”

Harry whines. He’s so hard. Again. 

“Harry, you alright? Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t speak.

“Are you okay?”

Harry turns his head so he can see Louis. “I… I’m… I’m hard again and I…” 

“Oh, yeah? That’s, um… You’ll have to give me a few minutes to catch up.”

Harry snickers and smiles. “Sounds good.” Then drops his head down. He’s a complete mess. His thighs are a little sore, he’s sticky all over, there’s dried come on his stomach that’s practically gluing him to the sheet, and there’s come and lube all over his thighs and it’s seeping down onto the front of his legs. “Would you… I need a shower. Do you want to join me?”

“What, no fancy pink bath for me?” Louis tilts his head and bites his lower lip.

“I mean, we can, but I’m really gross and I’d rather not soak in the tub with all of this come and lube.”

Louis nods once and rolls over, then climbs off the bed. “Show me the way, Harold. I don’t know where your bathroom is.”

“It’s Harry.” Harry smirks and rolls onto his side, then pushes himself up and off the bed.

“Right. Well, Harry from Literary Modernism class. What’s your last name?”

“Styles. What’s yours, Louis T. in alphabetical order after me on the class roster and after the dude I was trying to send that pic to in my phone?”

Louis cackles. “Tomlinson. And hey, um, maybe we can take care of this in the shower.” He reaches out and wraps his hand around Harry’s cock, giving it a few strokes before letting go, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist, and pulling him into a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it :D
> 
> If you did, here's a [Tumblr](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/166257494530/splish-splash-by-fullonlarrie-harrys-looking-to) post you can reblog :)


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